Behind his gold-rimmed sses, Stein''s eyes held a deep, knowing wisdom.


    He couldn''t say Victoria''s thinking was wrong. To an outsider, it might sound cruel, but she was a survivor, a beast who had carved out her own empire in the jungle of the business world and elevated the Langford family to the top of Starfall City. How could she not be a woman of resolute, unconventional thinking?


    Stein knew the world of men was a battlefield. It was hard enough for a woman to secure a ce in it, let alone a woman with three children, all of whom carried the weight of the Langford family''s legacy on their shoulders.


    "I can''t interfere with how you raise your children or choose your son-inw. All we can do now is hope our Gwh rises from these ashes like a true phoenix." Stein raised his teacup and gently clinked it against Victoria''s.


    The siblings shared a smile, but an imperceptible worry lingered in both their eyes.


    "Vicky,” Stein said softly, "I feel like you''ve changed. You''ve be someone I barely recognize."


    Victoria''s expression was light. “Have I? I''m not just someone''s daughter or someone''s wife anymore. I''m a mother of three. Does my brother think I''ve be too calcting?"


    Stein simply smiled without a word.


    They chatted amiably about their recent lives, steering clear of the topic of their children. Victoria arranged for a room for Stein at the family estate, inviting him to stay the night. After Stein met with the Langford patriarch, the old man was as delighted as a child, pulling Stein into the courtyard for a game of chess.


    Watching them, the smile on Victoria''s face slowly faded. She returned to her room with the digital recorder and Patti''s confession, listening to the recording over and over again. She had been watching Hawthorne closely, and if he was truly the man this woman described, she would wait and see.


    Meanwhile, in Greenvale, the next day at the office, Hawthorne was informed by HR that Patti hadn''t shown up for work and hadn''t called in. Her projects were now on hold.


    "I see. Assign someone else to take over," Hawthorne said coolly. He figured she was throwing a tantrum because he''d ignored her yesterday.


    He paid it no mind, finished his work, and then drove to her apartment. When the door opened, Hawthorne was genuinely shocked by the sight of Patti. Her cheeks were grotesquely swollen, and her entire face was an angry red.


    If he hadn''t known she was the only one in the apartment, he might have thought he was seeing a ghost.


    “You—” he began, his eyes wide with rare surprise.


    The moment Patti saw Hawthorne, her pent-up tears fell like broken strings of pearls. Her face had been so swollen when she got back yesterday that she could barely open her mouth. After a night and a morning, it had subsided slightly.


    "Hawthorne, why didn''t youe check on me yesterday? I''m too embarrassed to go to the office today," she sobbed. She knew she and Hawthorne didn''t have that kind of rtionship, so she only dared to whimper quietly. If it had been If nomad James, she would have thrown herself into his arms and wailed.


    But with Hawthorne, she didn''t dare.


    Hawthorne entered the living room, sat down, and lit a cigarette, his brow furrowed. From the looks of her, this wasn''t some ploy for sympathy.


    "Tell me what happened."


    Patti''s grievances flooded out, her words still slurred. "It''s just like you see. I told you yesterday." What more was there to say? McNeil had nearly beaten her to death.


    "You said the person you saw was McNeil?" Hawthorne, of course, didn''t believe it. Gwh didn''t even know. How could Patti have met a living, breathing McNeil?


    "Wait, I secretly took a picture." Patti suddenly remembered. She had originally nned to show the photo to James, to y the victim and win his favor, but then thought better of it. She had confessed all the details of her sordid dealings with Hawthorne, it would be a disaster if James found out.


    She handed her phone to Hawthorne the photo, taken from a skewed angle, was distorted, but the man''s face was still clearly visible. Hawthorne certainly recognized McNeil; he''d seen him once over a decade ago and twice more while he was on his deathbed,


    man in the


    photo was clearly not McNeil. 14 was a stranger, but the contours of his face bore a resemnce to his mother-inw. Both were clearly a cut above the rest.